A Certain Magical Index: Rapture
by G96 Saber
Summary: Think you know Kamijou Touma? His values? His power? His level of intelligence? Think again. A certain unlucky scientist meets a girl who calls herself an 'Index'. OCCish Touma.
1. Off The Rails

Toaru Majutsu no Index: Rapture

Prologue

* * *

The Tale of a Certain Scientist.

The Illusion Killer.

"Such misfortune,"

Even though the words he uttered were full of negative connotations, Kamijou Touma did not show any kind of adverse reaction to his 'plight', in fact, his elocution implied smug satisfaction.

As he ran through the back alleys late at night, his white coat trailing in his wake, Kamijou glanced behind him.

There were eight of them, just as there were two kilometres before.

He didn't mind. Kamijou wasn't running for an normal, everyday reason, such as: 'If I don't escape I'll be mugged and beaten'. Instead, he was leading his pursuers away from civilization. To where no one would interfere.

Kamijou had found the delinquents, clearly drunk, cornering a middle school-aged girl in a family restaurant. He decided he would intervene, in case the girl could not defend herself, and here he was; being chased by just over half a dozen thugs with IQ's on the same scale as particularly dim forms of vegetables. Joy.

Kamijou manoeuvred around a filthy plastic bucket and frightened off a black cat as he continued running.

Oddly, there were only three thugs bothering the girl originally, but as soon as Kamijou intervened, five more young men came barrelling out of a bathroom. What five young adults were doing in a family restaurant's bathroom Kamijou didn't want to know.

(Nyah~, it's a pity I didn't get to eat anything though.)

As Kamijou led the thugs out of the back alleys and onto the streets, he took a glance at the watch on his wrist - a slim analogue time piece made out of a metal so dark that it appeared to suck light in. It read 7:00 pm.

(Well, maybe I ought to wrap this up, I could be reading _The Academy Scientist_ instead of bumbling about with some morons)

With that thought, Kamijou made his way across the street and into another set of dark alleyways. He turned right at the nearest intersection, pressing his back against the cold cement wall. Kamijou licked his lips as he waited in ambush, hearing the steady rapping of boots on pavement draw ever closer. From the variations in the sound, Kamijou could tell that two of the delinquents were practically side by side, and another trailed a few feet behind them. The other five were far back.

With speed and precision that spoke of years of fighting experience, Kamijou turned the corner he'd just exited and slammed his fist against the jaw of the thug nearest to him. There would be no getting up from that any-time soon - running into a fist is not recommended for continued good health.

The other delinquent merely stood shocked, his beady eyes wide and bald head dripping with sweat. Kamijou Touma took advantage of this surprised state by punching him in the nose. The beady-eyed delinquent dropped like a whale thrown off a skyscraper.

However, Kamijou had not forgotten the third thug; which was why he nimbly side stepped as a fist flew past his head. From the look on the opponent's face, Kamijou could tell that he knew he was screwed. One of the thugs arm's were extended, the other arm was in no position to strike and the delinquent was carrying too much forward momentum to use his body as a weapon.

Kamijou had no such restrictions. He grasped the thug's extended arm with one hand, twisted it, and smashed his palm down upon his opponents elbow joint like in hammer. A sickening crack echoed in the dark alleyway, followed quickly by a pitiful mixture of screams and sobs.

Kamijou let go of the wailing thug, who immediately dropped to the ground and curled into a ball like a hedgehog. Kamijou ignored him. Instead, he waited in the centre of the alley, his arms folded over his white coat, a hybridisation of a greatcoat and a lab coat. For an entire minute he stood unmoving, growing steadily more bored with the lack of people to beat up.

"Nyah~, where is everybody?" He asked himself.

Kamijou took a glance a back at the crying delinquent.

(It is unlikely that they gave up, otherwise trash over there wouldn't be here either.)

This was because delinquents generally fought in large groups.

In Academy City, there were two reasons why thugs attacked in considerable numbers. A good portion of the population of Academy City were under the impression that numbers will always overwhelm individual skill in a fistfight; this was why delinquents always fought with at least a three to one ratio advantage. Kamijou had proven their misconception wrong many times.

The other reason was much more grandeur. Academy City was the most technologically advanced society in the world. It was said that _The City of Science_ (as it was often known) housed technology thirty years ahead of the rest of the world. Kamijou knew this to be untrue. Fifty years would be a more precise estimate.

Academy City's greatest technological triumph materialized in the form of the Power Curriculum Program. Taken alongside the regular curriculum, it was designed to unlock a student's potential in gaining and improving supernatural powers through science - to warp reality to a person's will. This was the other reason why delinquents found it necessary to move in large groups. Of course, most psychic powers were useless in combat, though many exceptions exist.

Kamijou looked back at the entrance of the alley, "Huh. Well, I suppose no one is coming," he ran his fingers through his shoulder length, sable hued hair and frowned, "I was going to have so much fun too,"

Giving up on waiting, he turned left the alleyway, all the while wondering who took out the thugs that should have been following him.

After another two kilometres of walking at a steady pace, he exited the urban area entirely and came to a large river. A sizeable metal bridge spanned the waterway, about 150 meters across. No cars could be seen upon it; in fact, not a soul was in sight. Though, that may be because the bridge was not illuminated by any source of light. Kamijou considered it to be rather eerie actually, darkness seemed to wrap the structure like a sea of obsidian, beckoning any who gazed upon it to keep their distance.

Slowly, he made his way across the bridge, stopping about a quarter way across to look down at the dark waters below. The ebony-haired boy leant on the metal railings and closed his eyes, absorbing the late afternoon atmosphere.

It was quiet, the constant sound of the busy city (of which he had spent his day in) seemed like a distant memory on the dark, foreboding, yet somehow peaceful bridge on which he stood. The soothing reverberation of slow moving water was vaguely audible from Kamijou's spot; the distant sound playing like a tranquil melody on a lonely night. The ebony-haired boy decided the silence was almost as wonderful as punching someone.

Unfortunately for Kamijou, a feminine voice broke said silence.

"Really now, what are you doing? Do you think protecting those delinquents makes you a good person? Are you some overzealous teacher?"

Kamijou turned toward the exclamation, showing no reaction to her (for he assumed it was a female's) comments whatsoever. As the bridge had no lights, he had to peer into the darkness to find the owner of the voice.

She was standing around five meters ahead of him, and appeared to be a middle school student wearing the uniform of the prestigious Tokiwadai all girls' school - a gray pleated skirt, a short-sleeved blouse, and a summer sweater. The girl before him was the very same one from the family restaurant.

Kamijou tilted his head in thought.

(I wonder what power allowed her to get here before me... or maybe she just ran the entire way?)

The black haired teenager checked for any signs of perspiration on her person, while difficult in the low light environment, he could tell she had not been running any significant distances lately.

(So... a psychic power then? But which one?)

Multiple hypothesis sprung into being.

Clearly his mind of possibilities, Kamijou focused on the present.

"Do I look like a teacher?" He pointedly glanced down at his royal blue coloured Nagatenjouki Academy sweater he wore under his coat.

The girl crossed her arms and huffed childishly, blowing her chestnut hued hair into the wind.

"There isn't enough light on this bridge," She replied, ears reddening in embarrassment.

Kamijou smiled slightly at her inability to truly admit to a mistake.

"I see," He said simply, "And what makes you think I was attempting to save the delinquents?"

"You aren't blind are you?" The girl tugged at her brown Tokiwadai sweater and explained, "Anyone who is wearing one of these is at least a level 3; such a person would not need the help of a wannabe hero who then _runs away_ at the first sign of danger,"

Kamijou raised an eyebrow. That was pretty simplistic thinking for a girl belonging to one of the five most prestigious schools in Academy City. He examined the unnamed girl as intricately as he could in the low light conditions. Her posture, of which he presumed would usually be precise, was quite awful for a girl from an undoubtedly wealthy family. Other signs of stress and weariness were visible; most notably the bags under her eyes - that were not quite effectively covered by make-up (at least, not to Kamijou's keen scrutiny).

"Firstly, most psychic powers are not useful in combat, and I have no way of knowing whether you posses such a power at any rate,"

The middle schooler reddened slightly.

"And then you assumed I was running away," Kamijou smiled pleasantly and continued in a light-hearted tone, "I was just leading them to a place where we wouldn't be interrupted,"

The girl's fists clenched and her jaw squared in anger. Clearly something Kamijou said angered her.

(The cause of her stress maybe? Or perhaps she merely dislikes the implications of what I said?)

Kamijou banished those thoughts from his head - guessing was unproductive without enough data to form a conclusion.

"So..." he spoke, breaking an uncomfortable silence, "What are you doing here?"

The unnamed girl's frown became even more pronounced, "Well originally I was wondering why a Nagatenjouki Academy student was picking a fight at all,"

This statement, while stereotypical, was quite true. Students of Nagatenjouki were usually academics, many of which were also level 0's. Nagatenjouki was also famous for failing to produce a level 5.

Unknown to the girl, Kamijou Touma was actually a 'Duel-Schooler'; this meant that he was officially enrolled in two schools. Usually, this was enacted when a student had multiple educational requirements which a single school could not provide. Kamijou was not one of those people. He wanted to go to a school with his friends and study Particle Physics (and whatever took his fancy) simultaneously. Fortunately, he was something of a prodigy, so arrangements were made. It also helped that his parents were rather wealthy.

Particle Physics wouldn't help Kamijou now though.

The Tokiwadai student continued to explain, "I was also interested in what made you confident enough to fight three on one, and why you attempted to help a stranger at all,"

Kamijou shrugged, "I don't need a reason to help anyone,"

The girl's gaze suddenly sharpened, her light brown eyes burning into Kamijou's own royal blue orbs.

"Those are the words of the strong," she spoke, sounding very serious.

Her gaze unchanging, she slipped her hand into her skirt pocket and pulled out an arcade coin.

"Have you ever heard of the term 'Railgun'?"

Kamijou denied the instinct to insult her for implying that he lacked such simple knowledge.

But before he was given a chance to speak, the middle school girl began an (entirely unnecessary) explanation, "The idea behind it is the same as a linear motor train. It is a ship-borne weapon that uses powerful electromagnets to fire a metal projectile,"

She flicked the arcade coin with her thumb, sending it spiralling through the air.

"It refers to something like this,"

Just as she spoke, the coin landed back on her thumb.

It didn't stay there for long.

An orange spear of light suddenly and silently shot past Kamijou's head. Though, it resembled a laser more than a spear. It travelled at such a high velocity that an after-image of light stretched back to it.

Almost like thunder, a great noise echoed through the bridge. It tore through the air around Kamijou's ears, though he gave no indication that he even felt it. The blue-eyed teen glanced over his shoulder to survey the aftermath.

The instant the orange light struck the road surface on the bridge, the asphalt had been shredded and obliterated. Even after travelling a thirty meter path of utter destruction and stopping, the orange afterglow was still burning like the fires of hell.

"Even a coin like this can be quite powerful when it's fired at three times the speed of sound. Of course, the coin melts after 50 meters because of air friction," The girl explained lightly, as if she was commenting on the weather.

"An interesting demonstration," Kamijou replied, sounding thoroughly uninterested.

The unknown girl gritted her teeth, disliking being made light of, "Don't underestimate me!"

As she yelled this, bluish-white sparks flew from the girl's fringe and a spear-like line of lightning propelled towards Kamijou. While it was not as fast as _real _lightning, as the electrical current was born of her own mind, there was still no way for a normal person to evade.

To an observer, the battle could be compared to a thundercloud shooting off a bolt of lightning and then expecting a human to dodge it.

At once, Kamijou stretched his right hand toward the bolt, perpendicular to the Earth; in what appeared to be an attempt to _grab _the lightning out the air. The electrical current hit his hand. It rampaged through Kamijou's body and sparks scattered in every direction and into the bridge's steel framework.

"Why are you completely unhurt?"

While the girl's words seemed light-hearted in tone, curiosity and irritation were clear to Kamijou's ears. The fact she was glaring at him made her emotional state all the more obvious.

The powerful current of which scattered into the surroundings had been strong enough to sear the steel framework of the bridge, yet, Kamijou's right hand had not melted, or been blow off, or even severely burnt. In fact, he was unharmed.

The right hand of Kamijou Touma erased the spear of lightning.

The girl studied Kamijou intensely, before muttering, "Just what _is _that power? It isn't in Academy Cities records, or I'm sure I would've heard of such an odd phenomena..."

She paused for a second, considering her next action.

"Hmm, it doesn't matter what strange power you possess, I will prove that I am stronger! I _need_ to be stronger!" The girl practically emanated desperation.

It was clear to Kamijou that something was badly wrong - at least in her mind, if not in her life.

The ebony-haired boy glanced down at his watch.

(I need to be getting back home.)

Deciding it was faster, and more efficient, to taunt her; Kamijou tilted his head, "... You'll always loose,"

This was stated with unwavering certainty.

He received a response in the form of a dart of blue lightning that shot from her forehead.

No differently than before, it scattered in every direction the instant it met Kamijou's right hand - like a wave against the rocks, her efforts appeared to be futile.

The name of this power?

Imagine Breaker.

Psychic powers, no matter their origin, from the barely functional semi-fakes mocked in the media to the effective abilities established with numerical formulae in Academy City. Any kind of supernatural power, even if it were part of god's system, would be negated without question by his right hand.

As it was supernatural in origin, Railgun's ability was no exception.

However, Kamijou's Imagine Breaker worked on the supernatural power and _only _the supernatural power. Basically, he could negate an ability user's fireball, but he was still vulnerable to the concrete shards broken by the fireball. Also, the effective range was only his right hand and wrist. If the fireball hit him anywhere else, he would be... adversely effected.

For an unspecified amount of time, the girl fired bolts of lightning at Kamijou, all of which were effortlessly blocked.

By now, Railgun had worn herself out. She was panting, leaning over against her legs to support herself.

(I suppose this is time to go.)

Kamijou smirked at Railgun.

(You are an interesting person...)

He walked away.

That was how July 19th ended for Kamijou Touma.


	2. A Meeting of Minds

Chapter 1

* * *

The Magician Lands on the Tower.

Fair,_Occasionally_GIRL.

Part 1

"You Aquarius' born between January 20th and February 18th have the greatest luck in love, work, and money! No matter how incredibly improbable things may get, only good things will happen, so how about you go play the lottery!? But no matter how popular you may be, don't try dating three or four girls at the same time!"

Kamijou sniggered at the horoscope, wondering why the editors of a city-wide newspaper - the largest in Academy City - even bothered with such drivel. In the City of Science, pseudo-scientific concepts such as divination were looked down upon with scorn and mockery. Although, considering the tenants Academy City was founded on, such a position was easily justifiable.

Kamijou Touma shifted in his armchair, the cool leather a reprieve against his boiling dorm room. Apparently, lightning struck during the night and damaged around 80% of the electrical appliances in the entire building. This included the air-conditioning and the fridge; which, of course, ruined all his food. Fortunately, Kamijou was by no means short of money and ordered a take-away.

For breakfast.

Now he just had to wait. Well, wait and hope his lack of luck didn't adversely affect the delivery boy.

This was everyday life for Kamijou Touma.

The horoscope was always wrong and he had never encountered an effective good luck charm. Luck deserted him; no, to be more precise, to say that luck was, and always had been, absent from his life would be a more correct statement.

Basically, because his luck stat was '0', Kamijou only experienced misfortune during his 16 year existence.

Fortunately, Kamijou Touma did not have to rely on luck (as he had none). Peak human physical aptitude, an intelligence level that could only be measured through comparisons to other great minds and a drive to become the best (at everything he _ever _attempted) was enough to allow him to navigate through the difficulties of life.

Getting bored with reading the paper, Kamijou folded it up threw it on the circular coffee table in the centre of the room. The blue-eyed teen scanned his dorm, noting the lack of change since yesterday; the room was still dominated by blue and black, a workspace was set out in one corner, a piano in the other and a low coffee table resided in the centre point of the dorm. This was to be expected, as Kamijou hadn't altered the interior design in almost a year.

Sighing, the ebony-haired teen decided that a trip to the balcony was in order; the room was far too humid to be comfortable. He rose from his chair, grabbed a deep green apple from a fruit bowl atop the coffee table and opened the transparent sliding door to the outside world. Kamijou's dorm was perched on the second floor; the neighbouring building a mere two meters away. As he looked across from the balcony, no view was visible; just slate grey concrete.

(Damn, that is dreary.)

Kamijou glanced around the small balcony; everything was in order, the railings had yet to rust, their black paint blending in with the dark background, the futon-

Futon?

A white futon hung from the balcony, seemingly unassuming.

Kamijou did not hang a futon there. In fact, no one could've; he may live in a dorm, but his dorm was configured like an apartment. Kamijou was the only resident.

When he looked closer, the blue-eyed teen realised that the anomaly hanging from the railings was _not _a futon, but a girl; a girl wearing white robes.

Kamijou blinked at the nonsensical image. Somehow, she had fallen asleep while bent over the railings; her legs and arms hanging straight down. The question was: how? That must've been an incredibly uncomfortable position, the cold, unbending railing digging into her stomach, while the girl's back was bent at an awkward angle.

The unknown appeared to be about fourteen, fifteen at the most. A year or two younger than Kamijou. From her pale skin and argent silver hair Kamijou guessed that she was a foreigner (though he could not fairly judge nationalities by skin colour; spending time indoors had left him just as pale as the girl). Her facial features were veiled by long hair - what Kamijou could only describe as 'waist length'.

(What is a girl doing on my balcony? Wait a second...)

Kamijou re-examined her clothes. She was wearing an outfit that resembled a long white dress - long enough to reach her ankles - and a one-piece hood that covered her forehead. On certain parts of the outfit, golden patterns were embroidered into the material. If you reversed the colours and took away the embroidery...

(A nun's habit? Is she cosplaying? Or perhaps a kind of nun I'm ignorant of?)

The girl's pale, dainty fingertips twitched. Kamijou narrowed his eyes and lowered his centre of gravity - you can never be too cautious.

Her head rose from it's bowed position, her (presumably) silky hair parting like a curtain to reveal the unknown's face.

She was... cute, very cute. Kamijou had to withhold a feminine squeal; as he was often forced to when met with cute things (though he would never admit to such behaviour). The girl's large, green eyes stared into Kamijou's own and he was somewhat reminded of a doll.

"I..."

Her tiny, pink lips enunciated slowly; evidently, the nun's (or possibly cos-player's) mind was still drifting between consciousness and the land of dreams.

"I'm hungry,"

Kamijou blinked.

Then he held out his hand.

"Apple?"

The girl's eyes lit up (in the back of his mind, Kamijou noted that her eyes were of identical colouring to the apple she was eyeing like a starved lion) and she pulled her self off the railing and launched toward the piece of fruit with surprising, but not unexpected, quickness.

Kamijou Touma stood and watched as the strange girl literally inhaled an apple greater than the breadth of her mouth.

(I think... things are going to be exciting once again... Do I get to punch people?)

Kamijou smirked.

Part 2

"I suppose I need to start with an introduction?"

Kamijou could tell that this was a question, not a statement.

(Socially awkward?)

Nevertheless, he replied, "Yes, an introduction would suffice, for now,"

The girl smiled radiantly, "My name is Index,"

(I... wasn't expecting that. A foreign name would've made sense, a random word, not so much.)

"Okay," Kamijou dead-panned, his eyebrow raised, "I am unsure of your country of origin, but I can safely say that, in no continent on Earth is 'Index' a socially acceptable name,"

'Index' pouted (in an incredibly cute fashion, Kamijou noted) and rubbed her... slim chest with her arm, "Is Index not specific enough? Well, my magic name is Dedicatus545,"

(Magic Name? ... Has this girl been brainwashed? Or is she merely making things up?)

Kamijou focused on her expectant face; calculating the chance that she actually believed what she was proclaiming. No deception was visible; in fact, her expression was easily read - too easy, as if she simply had no knowledge of the importance of facial expressions (and their concealing of) in a social context.

"Anyway," Index chirped, changing the pace and subject of the conversation in a mere second, "It would be great if you could feed me up please!"

Suddenly, Kamijou was reminded of a baby bird pleading for food through the medium of high-pitched squeaking.

"Unfortunately, this dorm was hit by lightning last night; all of the all of the hot food is inedible," He explained.

Index pouted like a small child.

"...Fortunately," Kamijou continued, his voice almost wavering at the adorable facial expression, "I have ordered breakfast, it shall be here soon,"

Index's whole demeanour brightened, and a smile graced her lips, "Oh, I can wait then," The white-robed girl examined the surrounding room as if seeing it for the first time, her nose scrunching up in thought, "You have a nice apartment, by the way..."

Kamijou shifted in his seat, directly opposite Index, "My apologies," He replied, "I have not yet given you my name yet I asked for your own. I am Kamijou Touma. As for the room... Well, the furnishing was expensive,"

"Ah, nice to meet you Kamijou-san!" Index exclaimed, sounding very enthusiastic, "I suppose you want to know what I was doing on your balcony?"

Kamijou leaned forward in his chair, resting his chin on his hand, "I am most curious,"

Index adopted a rather vacant expression, mostly likely because she was recalling a past event, "Well... I fell," The silver-haired girl explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "I was jumping from rooftop to rooftop,"

Kamijou glanced toward the ceiling. The building in which he was currently residing was eight storeys tall, and two meter gaps separated one building from the next. Jumping from such heights would not be recommended for a person's continued good health, which begged an obvious question.

(How was she uninjured from the fall?)

Frowning slightly Kamijou asked, "And why were you jumping from roof to roof? Such an... action is dangerous to say the least," The black-haired boy gestured in Index's direction, "But wearing impractical clothing - like a nun's habit, it's practically suicide,"

Index tensed slightly, her big green eyes narrowing at Kamijou, "You don't even get a grave if you commit suicide," She said this in the most serious voice she could muster, before looking down sombrely, "But I had no choice. I had to escape,"

"Escape..." Kamijou replied slowly, as if testing the word on his tongue, "From whom?" He questioned.

(And to what end?)

This was definitely the most interesting start to the day the blue-eyed teen experienced for months.

Hmm…" Index scrunched up her nose in thought, "Now who was it? Maybe it was the Rosicrucians or S,M, aka Stella Matutina. I think it was some group like that, but I don't know their name yet. …They aren't the type to find meaning in names,"

Kamijou could detect a little distaste as the silver-haired nun enunciated the last statement.

"...They?"

(An organisation is tracking her?)

"Yes," Index was surprisingly calm for a fugitive, "A sorcerer's society,"

Kamijou blinked. The nun must be a recent arrival to Academy City: no one would seriously consider the existence of magic, never-mind speak of it as if magic was a fact. He re-analysed her body language and facial expression; she did believe, most likely whole-heartedly, in magic.

(It could explain her lack of injury...)

Kamijou frowned, considering the insidious ways one could utilize to enforce the belief in the supernatural (psychic abilities are exceptions, as they are explainable by science).

"A 'sorcerer's society', huh?" He tilted his head slightly, "I'd like to see proof of this 'magic',"

Index parroted Kamijou, inclining her own head in an identical fashion, "Well-" She began, only interrupted by the tinkling of what could only be a doorbell.

"Ah!" Kamijou exclaimed, turning toward the hall, "That's the door," He glanced back Index, who appeared to posses a childish curiosity of _everything_, and said with a smile, "Please don't touch anything fragile, now, if you'll excuse me,"

With that well mannered speech, Kamijou headed toward the door. A few minutes later, he returned with breakfast. Or at least, something that would only be considered breakfast by his own definition.

Index on the other hand, was sitting where he left her, staring unwaveringly at the piano.

Kamijou placed a plate in front of Index, and through he could tell she could both smell and see it's deliciousness, she did not move an inch. He sat across from her, crossing his legs under the coffee table.

Index continued to stare.

"Index-san?" Kamijou vocalised, hoping to break her out of the one-man (well, one-woman) staring context she had clearly embroiled herself in.

"Eh?" Index replied, blinking and shaking her head.

"You were have a staring contest with my piano," Kamijou dead-panned, "I wouldn't recommend you doing that again by the way, you'll always lose,"

The ebony-haired teen sounded both upbeat and mocking as he said this; causing Index to blush in embarrassment - once again reminding Kamijou of a porcelain doll.

Suddenly, Index's blush faded almost unnaturally quickly and she turned a pointed gaze to Kamijou, though it failed to create any intimidating feelings in him. In fact, it was just adorable.

"Why are you so good?"

Index said this vague observation like she knew it as an an undisputed fact, despite the fact she'd known Kamijou for all of five minutes.

"You'll have to be a little less vague if I have any hope of answering such a question," The blue-eyed boy replied, his sense of vanity kicking up a notch (or to be more precise, another notch).

"You are well mannered, you can play the piano, you have nice clothes," Index listed, gesturing at the piano and a rack housing an expensive coat near the hall, "You seem too perfect, Kamijou-san,"

"Well perhaps my faults are not so obvious," Kamijou suggested, amused by her childish naivety, before adding, "Oh, and I play guitar and violin too,"

Index pouted.

"Anyway, you should eat your breakfast before it cools,"

The nun's eyes widened, and she looked as if she'd forgotten her own birthday, "Oh!" Was all she muttered before metaphorically diving into her meal, ignoring the fact that she was eating fish & chips at seven am.

Kamijou merely glanced (and sniffed disdainfully, if he were being honest) at her lack of manners before he placed his hand on her knife-holding wrist, preventing the nun from desecrating 200,000 years of evolved decorum any further. As soon as he did so, he felt a thrum.

Not just any thrum, but one that was accompanied by an an emptying feeling that spread throughout his body.

The thrum of Imagine Breaker.

The nuns habit, _Index's clothes_, exploded.

For a second, everything was silent. Kamijou stared at Index and Index stared at Kamijou.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not into loli's,"

Index screamed.

Part 3

"So, to summarize; the habit that you are currently wearing is called a 'Walking Church'," Kamijou eyed the multiple pins that were preventing the extravagant habit from falling apart, "Which, powered by 'Idol Theory' and 'Mana' acts as an incredibly powerful defensive barrier. My Imagine Breaker accidentally negated it, and so it no longer operates,"

After a few minutes of Index flailing about in panic, Kamijou finally managed to calm her and explain, from his viewpoint, what had made her clothes combust. Then, Index explained why her clothes were a supernatural object and the incident was understood.

"So..." Kamijou began, deciding he would change the subject, "Why were the... magic-users chasing you?"

"Probably for the 103,000 grimoires in my possession,"

Kamijou Touma was not expecting that. He considered the possibility that Index could 'posses' over 100,000 books. Somehow, he doubted that they were downloaded onto a media device. That only left...

"Your memory? Do you have the location to the grimoires memorized?" Noticing Index's confused expression he guessed again, "You have an eidetic memory - you memorised all of them?"

Vaguely, Kamijou noted that if over 100,00 books and tomes were dedicated to magic, then it must've existed for a long time, and become an incredibly dangerous art. The fact that Christians used to burn witches _for using magic_ only made the religious use of magic more ironic, if a little pathetic. Although, there were plenty of angles in which the church could 'justify' the witch burnings and their use of magic. Or the current understanding of history could be flawed.

Index nodded, her silver hair bobbing freely, "Yes, as I am the Index, it is my duty as a daughter of God,"

She appeared very proud when saying this, and Kamijou could not fathom why.

(If Idol Theory is effective with Gods other than the Abrahamic one, her faith is blown out of the water. Then again, religious people have perfected the art of excuses...)

Suddenly remembering the fact that he had to go to school, Kamijou glanced at his watch.

(Shit. I really need to get going.)

"Index-san," The ebony-haired teen caught her attention, "I need to go to school. Feel free to stay here if you so wish,"

The nun shook her head.

"No thank you, I need to find a church, there I will be safe," Index replied, sounding happy that Kamijou offered.

The green-eyed young girl gracefully made her way toward the door.

Kamijou followed behind her, frowning.

He could leave her... which would most likely end in her death. Kamijou didn't want that. She, as far he could tell, was an innocent girl - a child, practically.

(And the chance to fight a mage...)

With that thought, Kamijou Touma decided.

"Wait," He practically commanded, sounding serious, sombre and excited simultaneously, "I shall help you with your mage problem,"

This was proclaimed as a definite, exact statement, confidence pulsed in his heart.

Index stopped, turned and met Kamijou's eyes with her own, her viridian gaze searching, "To do so, would be to follow me into the depths of Hell,"

She said this in a monotonous tone, though Kamijou could recognise happiness at his offer to help.

"Do not worry, Index-san, I shall not face them alone," Kamijou smiled, though 'smirk' would be an more accurate description of the facial expression, "If you can continue to evade your... pursuers for three days, and then meet me in the nature park of District 21 at midnight, I will have... back-up,"

Index looked at him as if he was an alien."Um..." Her mouth opened and closed rapidly, though no words were formed. Finally, she decided, "Okay... but, I don't think Imagine Breaker would be an effective weapon against a sorcerer of their calibre?

Kamijou Touma smiled widely."Oh don't worry... I have a few... tricks up my sleeve. Be careful in Academy City," He added, "There are ability users _everywhere_,"


	3. An Extraordinary Day

Chapter 1

* * *

The Magician Lands on the Tower.

Fair,_Occasionally_GIRL.

Part 4

"And that children, is how osmosis occurs," A high-pitched, feminine voice lectured.

Kamijou Touma glanced around the classroom, noting the confused expressions on the faces of most of his peers. He barely refrained from rolling his eyes; this particular facet of Biology was taught in middle schools across all Academy City. _A Certain High School _- of which he was a student of (at least partially) - focused far too much time on PE, and too little time on improving their 'hard' curriculum; namely Maths, Japanese and Science.

This resulted in terrible academic records annually, which lowered A Certain High School to somewhere in the centre of the table of schools; propped up by outstanding results in PE and other 'softer' subjects. Notably, such a curriculum would not be a viable program in most of Japan; to the immense displeasure of traditionalists, Academy City's educational system ran on an unusual hybrid of the traditional Japanese system and more flexible western ideology regarding how best to teach the next generation of students.

Of course, Kamijou was a duel-schooler, and as such, he was officially enrolled in two learning institutions simultaneously. In stark contrast to A Certain High school, Nagatenjouki Academy was, officially, the highest rated school in the entirety of Academy City. Every year, it would churn out highly intelligent students ready for the most prestigious universities in Academy City. Although, in Kamijou's... humble opinion, most of them did not possess a single original thought in their head.

"~Neh, Kami-yan,"

As the teacher - one Tsukuyomi Komoe - finished regurgitating information on middle school science topics, another voice piped up from beside Kamijou.

"Yes, A-chan?" The ebony-haired teen replied, turning his head to the left so as to look at the person he was speaking to.

'A-chan', more commonly known as 'Aogami Pierce' pouted childishly at the feminine nickname, "Why'd you have to be so cruel, Kami-yan, I have a name too you know?"

"As do I, A-chan," Kamijou replied, nodding his head in faux, mocking solemness, "For as long as you continue to butcher my name, I shall return in kind,"

A few of their fellow students giggled and smiled; this conversation had repeated hundreds of times in the school year.

Aogami's pout curved, becoming more pronounced, "'A-chan' is not a cool nickname, Kami-yan," He argued enthusiastically, his blue hair tousling as he shook his head, "If that spreads around, I'll never pick up girls!"

Kamijou Touma sighed melodramatically, "A-chan, A-chan," He drawled, "There are more serious problems you must address before caring about a silly nickname. For instance, your inclination to use the plural 'girls' instead of the more socially acceptable 'girl',"

"But Kami-yan! There are too many kinds of girls out there to just settle for one!" Aogami responded, his eyes glinting with a special, unique perversion, "You must open your eyes to the glorious kingdom of females! Lolis, twins, teachers, childhood friends, underclassmen, upperclassmen," The pitch and timbre of his voice increased as he continued to list 'types' of females, without pausing to take a breath, "Childhood friends, rich girls, archery girls, shrine maidens, policewomen, nuns, sick girls, goth girls, tsundere girls, yandere girls, eyepatch girls, dominatrices, glasses girls, non-human girls, nurses, maids, blonde-haired girls, brown-haired girls, black-haired girls, red-haired girls, albino girls, ghost girls-"

Finally, the blue-haired boy ran out of breath, mid-rant. Instead of babbling about his... interests, Aogami was curled over his desk, panting heavily, his cheeks almost as blue as his hair.

The room was silent. The students stared at Aogami. The teacher stared at Aogami. Aogami stared at his desk.

Breaking the silence, Kamijou raised an eyebrow and plainly stated, in his typical, drawling tone, "You sound like a demented street preacher-"

Slowly, awkward giggling began to emanate around the classroom. It would break out like a cough only to be hastily smothered until the cycle repeated. Aogami sunk lower in his chair. The teacher, Tsukuyomi Komoe, merely stood, her tiny body shaking, in what Kamijou guessed was mostly anger and disappointment.

"- And you missed step sisters and mothers," Kamijou continued, as the whole class simultaneously sweat-dropped, "They are your favourite 'type'," The ebony-haired boy said this quite disdainfully, which confused most of the observers, as one second Kamijou seemed to be adding to Aogami's perversion, but then he appeared to swap ideological perspectives "If you _must _rant, please rant with real passion, not rehearsed lists,"

The class took a second to absorb this information, before deciding that his criticism made a strange kind of sense.

At this moment, another voice entered the conversation, "Nyah~ A-chan,"

Kamijou glanced back in his seat, watching the new speaker - one Tsuchimikado Motoharu - from the corner of his eye; surprisingly natural spiky blonde hair fell over the teen's eyes, which themselves were covered by blue tinted wrap-around glasses. All in all, he looked like a thug, a rich thug - Kamijou wouldn't have one of his best friends look impoverished - but a thug all the same.

Tsuchimikado grinned at the back of Aogami's head, and the facial expression only widened when the blue-haired teen turned in his seat to face him.

"You're making Komoe-sensei cry,"

...

"...Eh?"

Aogami revolved in his seat, so as to look at Komoe at the front of the classroom, his facial expression grim. He already had an inkling toward the coming events. The rest of the class also turned their attention toward the teacher. Aogami's expression twisted into something akin to horror.

Tsukuyomi Komoe stood directly in front of Aogami's desk, her tiny frame shaking. Large pink eyes filled with fat, childlike tears locked onto Aogami's permanently closed eyes. A single tear dropped onto her childish blouse.

At that precise moment, Aogami Pierce, in what he would later rationalize as his imagination, felt an immense metaphysical pressure push down upon his body. The pressure appeared to be all encompassing, and resonated from every direction. It was terrifying. He could practically _feel _the glares digging into him.

Fortunately, the ethereal power soon lessened to a sufficient level for Aogami to hear what his teacher was about to say.

"A-chan!" Komoe half wailed, half whined, "If you don't apply yourself to the work you'll never get anywhere. After you leave school, what will you do? I don't want to see you live off welfare forever!" The small teacher began to calm down as the lecture continued, "If you don't try harder and stop talking in lesson time, I'll have no choice but to give you remedial lessons,"

'Remedial lessons', at least with Komoe, were horrible. Hours upon hours of using whatever supernatural ability you happened to possess to take part in inane, and childish games. Even worse if you were a level 0, as Komoe would test you for common powers, making the games not only boring but also completely impossible. Or so Kamijou was told, as remedial lessons were never on his 'to do' list.

Aogami, quite understandably, appeared devastated at the prospect, though it was difficult to tell with his constantly closed eyes.

(They are the window to the soul, after all)

Kamijou smirked and glanced at 'A-chan'.

(Perhaps Aogami has no soul?)

Surprisingly, Aogami didn't give up on the discussion, instead, he attempted to deflect attention onto Kamijou.

"But Komoe-sensei, Kami-yan was talking too! He doesn't have any notes either!"

As one, the attention of every person in the classroom turned to Kamijou Touma; who, slowly, and quite teasingly, picked up his book and tilted it to face both Aogami and Komoe. He smirked at Aogami condescendingly, while revealing two pages worth of relatively complex notes on osmosis.

Aogami's face fell melodramatically, glancing at his own open page, which was amusingly free of writing. Not even the date. Or a title.

"_God damn Nagatenjouki_..." The blue-haired teen mumbled, just loud enough for everyone to here.

Kamijou flicked his hair out his eyes and replied, "Perhaps you ought to damn yourself eh? Nagatenjouki isn't your problem,"

Aogami merely slumped in his chair, gloomily.

"Hey, Kami-yan," Tsuchimikado chirped, leaning back on his chair, "What do you actually _do _at Nagatenjouki anyway?"

Everyone perked up and leaned keen to hear Kamijou's response, as this topic had never come up in conversation before.

"Hmm," Kamijou hummed, considering his answer, "I actually do very little classwork-" Indignant cries of the 'unfairness' sounded out throughout the room, and Kamijou paused to let them calm down, "-Instead, I coordinate other students in various minor experiments that run simultaneously,"

Around the classroom, the students jaws' collectively, and sometimes metaphorically, dropped. Nagatenjouki Academy was the top high school in Academy City - and therefore the educational peak _of the entire world_, for high school students, at least. To lead any experiment at Nagatenjouki, a great deal of trust would have to be put in an individual's competence. And Kamijou wasn't even enrolled in the entire Nagatenjouki curriculum. To many in the class, it seemed as if the greatest scientific mind of their generation was now just a few feet away.

Tsuchimikado blinked behind his glasses, and his face fell into a surprised - and impressed - expression that was hastily smothered a mere moment after it appeared, "What of experiments do you run then, Kami-yan?"

Kamijou looked back at his blond friend and smiled, "Unfortunately, that has to be kept under wraps," The pale teen nodded toward Tsuchimikado, "You know how it is, competition is _everywhere _- secrets, regrettably, have to be kept for now,"

Tsuchimikado grinned back and lightly replied, "I get what you mean, secrets swamp Academy City, even - and especially in - Nagatenjouki,"

"Speaking of Nagatenjouki," Kamijou stated blandly, as if the topic of conversation was completely inane, "The experiments are about to start, I have to go,"

With that, Kamijou hastily packed his books away and left.

Part 5

Nagatenjouki Academy's science labs resided separately from the rest of the school compound. Organised into multiple blocks, each one was labelled with a Greek God, which served as it's name. Each block resided in what could only be described as a small skyscraper, all running parallel to one another in the glamorous District 18.

Most of District 18 was stylized in a modern take on Renaissance-style architecture, but not Nagatenjouki Academy. It stood apart, both physically and metaphorically, even from other prestigious schools in the district, such as Tokiwadai and Kirigoka Girls Academy. While most of the streets were paved and lined in rustic red and extravagant spires, Nagatenjouki contrasted in just about every way possible. Most likely on purpose.

Kamijou was currently on his way toward _Ares_, one of the many labs that Nagatenjouki ran. As with every other moment in Academy City, the pavements were brimming with students, hastily making their way to their next destination as quickly as possible; this usually involved weaving around each other like over-enthusiastic ants. Which, if he were honest (as he usually was), he found almost intolerably annoying.

(Why can't they just pace themselves, the incompetent twats? I can understand a few people miscalculating the amount of time they need to get to their next destination, but not the vast majority of students.)

After a few minutes a weaving around the crowds, Kamijou arrived at the Ares lab, with almost exactly fifteen minutes until his lesson. He scanned the large, rectangular building for a brief moment, noting nothing extraordinary. Still big, still silver, and still full of Nagatenjouki students.

Suddenly, an echoing _boom _resounded throughout the area. Heat washed over Kamijou, and an intense burst of air pressure fluttered his coat and hair. Ear piercing screams bounced around the courtyard in which the ebony-haired teen stood, and panic was almost tangible in the air. Shards of glass were still falling to the ground, and flames licked on the edge of a broken window; a window on the second floor of the Ares lab.

(Shit.)

Kamijou scanned the area, searching for injured people... or suspicious people. A few dozen bystanders were scattered around the courtyard, most either staring at the result of the blast in horror or running around like headless chickens.

(Great, at least no one seems injured...)

One person, Kamijou noted, stood out from the crowd. A brown-haired man, wearing a lab coat,_ appeared to be texting in the middle of an emergency_, fear - not shock, was splashed over his facial features. After a few seconds, the nondescript man's eyes widened, and his hand began to shake.

(He definitely isn't phoning emergency services...)

With a glance around the area, the brown-haired man fled. Not very quickly, Kamijou noticed, as he continued to use his phone while running into an alleyway.

Kamijou scanned the blast area once more, noting it's position relative to himself, and then he ran into an alley parallel to the one the man entered. The teen powered through the narrow area, stretching his muscles as much as he could. With every pace, he was sure he was catching up. However, Kamijou's mind was simultaneously calculating where the explosion had occurred. By cross referencing the floor on which the blast took place, the position from which he viewed it at and what he knew of the building, the blue-eyed teen came to a single answer: a No-Go Zone.

A No-Go Zone was exactly what it sounded like, an area which very few people could enter. Serious, and sometimes illegal experiments, often took place there.

(That could be a motive for the bombing...)

Kamijou looked right as he passed a cross section that linked the alleyways together.

He passed the phone-using scientist, who appeared to be winded, judging by his posture. The ebony-haired teen pushed harder, arriving at the next cross section even faster than usual. He turned right, and began to sprint down the cross section, rapidly reaching the alley the man he was chasing was running down. Kamijou pushed his back against the alley, the dark cement contrasting with the pure white of his greatcoat.

There he waited, listening in silence as the footsteps of the brown-haired man became louder and louder.

Abruptly, Kamijou smirked and held out a clenched fist.

The nondescript man ran face first into it. He fell like a rag doll, hitting the grey cement floor on his side; somehow, he managed to keep a hold of his phone. The unknown man scrambled around pitifully, holding his broken - and bleeding - nose in one hand and his seemingly precious phone in the other.

"Don't get up," Kamijou commented lightly, stepping forward out of the shadow, "In fact, don't _move_,"

The man looked up, confusion and fear evident on his face. From his point of view, Kamijou appeared terrifying. Freezing blue eyes shadowed by ebony hair, coupled with harshly angular cheekbones and a narrow chin, creating an intensely intimidating effect. The long white coat only exacerbated his grandeur appearance.

"Why were you running?" Kamijou questioned, in a tone of voice that could only be described as 'sweet' - almost loving even, but the brown-haired man could hear the dangerous undertone as clearly as he could see it.

He didn't - couldn't - respond, instead, he just looked away, guiltily.

Kamijou reached into the inner pocket of his coat, removing a cylindrical black object. He smiled.

The unknown man looked on in confusion, until his gaze morphed into one of horror, as Kamijou pressed in button on the side of the strange item.

A rectangular strip metal snapped out of the end with a _click_. Then another, and another, and another. Until, a full-length katana was held in Kamijou's hand.

The unknown man whimpered.

"Give me the phone,"

The unknown man complied, uttering only a single word, "_Kihara_,"

* * *

Please note that this story is running second fiddle to Logic, Balance and Tolerance, my other story. It doesn't mean that I don't care about this, I just care about that more. Oh, and I'm not the fastest writer in the world.

PS. Everything will be explained.

PPS. Please review, as I'd like to hear criticism.


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